


Skin Deep

by LogicGunn



Series: Just Bruises [2]
Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: M/M, Rodney McKay Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-09
Updated: 2019-07-09
Packaged: 2020-06-25 08:21:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19741816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LogicGunn/pseuds/LogicGunn
Summary: Rodney's POV





	Skin Deep

**Author's Note:**

> This won't make much sense unless you've read Just Bruises.

Rodney suddenly finds himself skidding on gravel down a steep bank at the base of a mountain. Not  _ finds himself _ as in navel gazing, he has enough self-awareness that he doesn’t need to rediscover himself thank you very much, and besides, that level of introspection is for hippies and hipsters and Greek monks and middle aged women travelling to exotic locations to stem the tide of their midlife crises. No, he comes to a sudden awareness of himself and his surroundings mid stride and ends up tripping over his own feet, tumbling down a steep slope and landing flat on his ass.

This is not a novel thing; off the top of his head he can think of three occasions where he has come to awareness with no recollection of the preceding minutes/hours/days/what-have-you (most notably the time he went 96 hours without sleep in grad school and spaced out at the wheel, recovering to find himself driving the wrong way up an interstate at 0400), so he doesn’t panic, not exactly, but he’s off world and geared up and armed, his team are missing and he has no idea where he is. He does a quick body check (legs-not broken, arms-not dislocated, head-not bleeding) and a quick look around (mountain behind him, treeline ahead, no predatory animals in sight) and taps his earpiece.

“Major, this is McKay.”

_ Silence. _

“Major? Can you hear me?  Teyla ? Ford?”

Okay, no answer from his team so either his earpiece isn’t working or his team are out of range or they went back to Atlantis or they’re dead or…nope, still not panicking. He stands up, dusts himself off and checks his surroundings. He doesn’t particularly recognise the planet he’s on; it’s both identical and completely different to every other planet they’ve visited. There are no interesting landmarks in sight so he can’t determine the direction of the Stargate.

He checks his LSD; 11 life signs are moving around within 5km of his location, one of which is heading his way.

_ 150 meters…145…140… _

Because he doesn’t know what planet he’s on he doesn’t know if the natives are friend or foe, or if they’ve been culled and _oh_ _god, that’s probably a Wraith heading his way, still hungry after devouring the local populous_. He draws his side arm and directs it vaguely in the direction of the Wraith in the treeline, hands trembling but grip secure like Sheppard taught him. He only needs a few of the bullets to hit the target; he has plenty of spare ammo.

_ 125…120…115… _

This really isn’t how he wants to go out. Since coming to  Atlantis, he imagined he’d meet his end side by side with Sheppard doing something appropriately Nobel-worthy and courageous, not alone on a planet trying to gun down a Wraith.

_ 85…80…75… _

He looks around for somewhere to hide, but the mountainside is bare, the only cover is the forest itself and he’s absolutely not running into the trees towards the Wraith. He checks the LSD one last time _(_ _50…45…40…)_ then puts it away, freeing his other hand to support his gun. There’s a trail coming out of the treeline so it’s obvious where the Wraith is going to appear. He aims the gun at the trail’s exit, Sheppard’s voice in his head; keep _your eyes open, squeeze the trigger, don’t pull it._ He can hear twigs breaking underfoot, getting louder, and he takes in one last trembling breath ready to fire, and it’s such a relief to see Sergeant Stackhouse clearing the treeline and making straight for him.

“Doc!” says Stackhouse.

_ Oh thank god _ . Rodney lowers his gun and then Stackhouse is on his radio and Sheppard brings the ‘jumper to take him home.

“McKay, where the hell were you?” asks Sheppard gripping his shoulders, and it’s so good to see him it’s all Rodney can do to keep himself from doing something embarrassing like throw himself into Sheppard’s arms or burst into tears when Teyla comes up to him and presses her forehead against his.

They set off in the ‘jumper and from this altitude he can see a shimmering field of golden grass just past the forest  and oh _ , right, M3X-577. _

“Parrish is going to have a field day,” jokes Rodney. Ford laughs and Teyla smiles and Sheppard looks so damned relieved that Rodney smiles a little too. He’s not sure what just happened but he’s only lost three hours or so. Can’t be that bad, can it?

***

His goddamned shower isn’t working. It hums and buzzes but no there’s no water flow. He’s tempted to skip bathing altogether, but he got covered in dirt when he slipped and he hurts all over, can feel a dull, throbbing ache from his fingers to his toes. He’s going to have to go back to the communal shower, damn _ it all. _ He grabs his hypoallergenic towel, his citrus free soap and a change of clothing (no point getting back into his dusty BDUs), and heads off to the Ready Room. He hopes that Sheppard isn’t still there. He could maybe cope with Ford or  Teyla , but not Sheppard, not naked and warm and wet and… _ not helping. _

***

Rodney has always liked Kate. Her face is kind and her voice is gentle and he trusts her not to laugh at the inner workings of his mind. He’s talked to other psychologists before her, it’s mandatory to see one every month when working for the SGC, but she’s the first one he’s respected, the first one he’s seen as an equal. She’s smart enough not to try to change him or turn him into a pod person, but she helps him recognise patterns in his behaviour and be the best version of himself. Since coming to Atlantis he’s mellowed a lot; he’s always going to be the smartest person in the room but he doesn’t feel the need to prove himself quite so much. Kate thinks that command suits him, and who would have thought that before? Despite (or perhaps because of) his direct management style, the science department is a well-oiled machine, and though they grumble to his face, his staff are generally content in their work.

They’re sitting in Kate’s office today; they usually talk somewhere less formal, like the mess or a balcony, but Kate likes to do the really hard stuff in the office so that home and work spaces aren’t tainted by difficult conversations. The downside to this of course is the mere act of walking into her office fills him with panic, but since he’s already overwhelmed by unfathomable dread it barely registers this time. It’s Rodney’s job to know everything, and anything he doesn’t know he tries to figure out; still, he isn’t sure he wants to know what he’s forgotten. But Sheppard has gone back to M3X-577 so it’s up to Rodney to do what he can here.

Unlike most psychiatrists, Kate doesn’t write things down as they talk. Rodney knows she does it afterwards because she allowed him to triple secure her laptop’s network connection at his behest during their first session. He doesn’t want anyone else to be able to read her notes on him. Her office is deliberately furnished in soothing greys, minimalistic and sparse with a view over the North East pier, and Rodney keeps his eyes on the ocean as they talk, as Kate’s soft voice patiently guides him to pull his memories to the surface and dissect them.

He remembers candle light and furs, the feel of Ancient technology tugging at his subconscious, the smell of roasting meat and unwashed bodies, the sounds of heavy breathing and words in an unknown language. Most of all, he remembers the feel of hands all over his body, gripping his limbs, pinching his flesh, holding him down and restricting his movements. A man, tall and broad, braids whipping around his face as he claws at Rodney’s ribs, angry words tumbling from his throat and the weight of another person crushing his lungs. Pain and terror, crashing over him like waves against a pier; unending, overlapping and incomprehensible. 

By the time they’re done, Rodney is curled up on his chair, unashamedly sobbing, Kate holding him gently in her arms as he rides the emotion out.

***

When Sheppard finds him on the pier Radek’s already updated him on the wormholes and drone. It’s interesting technology and he wants to send a team back to study it, but he knows he won’t be going in person. He’s okay, almost over what happened; he’s figured out that it was fear not malice driving those people so he’s not actually traumatised, just unnerved. It’s a relief when Sheppard sits down next to him, close enough for their legs to press together and Sheppard’s heat to seep into him, warming him from the inside out.

Sheppard seems calm, cool and collected, but Rodney’s spent enough time under pressure with him to know he’s actually angry, that his stillness conceals rage. He realises that Sheppard…that  _ John _ isn’t okay, isn’t over it, he’s suffering. And isn’t that something?

“John,” he whispers.

“Yeah, Rodney?”

“Can I tell you a secret?”

“Sure buddy.”

“Carpe Diem.”

Rodney leans in and as their lips touch, he can feel the energy of John’s rage redirect into the kiss. John is strong and solid, both the unstoppable force and the immovable object, kissing Rodney like he’s starving for him. As Rodney pushes him down, John looks up and smiles, his whole face lit up with joy, and Rodney finally feels safe from harm.


End file.
